


Codename Love

by RoughTweedAction (Donya)



Series: Lady Smallwood my love [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The author loves Lady Smallwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:25:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donya/pseuds/RoughTweedAction
Summary: Lady Elizabeth Smallwood has bigger secrets than Lord Smallwood's love letters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by Anarfea, thank you.

Elizabeth was tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the hotel lift. She didn't have too much free time. Neither did the person she was about to meet. Alice Norton couldn't stay in London for more than a day at a time, for everyone's safety. Her alias wasn't enough to be anonymous and she had made quite a lot enemies by her tendency to misbehave.

'Uh, bloody thing,' Elizabeth muttered, annoyed and at the very same moment, the lift finally came down.

Elizabeth took a couple of deep breaths on her way up. She wasn't going to let small frustrations ruin her mood. She had been waiting for a while for an opportunity to see Irene and wanted to appreciate what was about to happen, to create new memories to keep her company when she was alone in her bed.

In the hallway, she eyed a security camera. She never knew who was on the other side. Maybe nobody. Maybe Mycroft. She smirked and imagined his reaction to the footage of her entering Irene Adler's hotel room. He would be scandalised. Shocked and ready to believe whatever lies she would tell him. That, however, was not going to happen, she was cautious and cunning enough to hide this part of her life from the notorious voyeur.

 

Irene awaited her. She raised her head when Elizabeth came in, her breathing quickened and she couldn't hide a smile. Warm, almost affectionate, tolerable only at the beginning of their sessions. She was wearing a simple white bra and knickers, nothing salacious or revealing. Nobody who knew Irene would believe she willingly put on something so innocent-looking. Lacy lingerie in hellish black or bloody red was only her work uniform. Privately, only for Elizabeth, she wore white. Elizabeth looked her up and down and gave a nod of approval. She loved the fantasy of an ingenue at her mercy.

Irene was on her knees. That alone would shock her clients. The dominatrix had a submissive streak. That was what made her so popular and successful: she understood those who were eager to please their Mistress. She knew what it felt like to endure pain for the dominant's entertainment. She knew how liberating it was to give someone else total control of her body.

Elizabeth put her handbag away and took off her coat. Irene's heart started beating faster, her chest almost heaving as Elizabeth approached her. It was always a dilemma for Elizabeth, what she wanted to do first: make Irene undress her or keep her kneeling. She was a sight to behold, suddenly so delicate and breakable and obedient.

Elizabeth reached her hand out and touched her cheek, Irene instantly leant into the touch. She looked up at Elizabeth, parted her lips just a tiny bit and didn't even blink when a thumb slid in. Her slow, deliberate sucking felt amazing. Elizabeth carded her free hand through Irene's hair. Gently, for a moment, then she caught a handful and tugged. Irene closed her eyes and tensed up, but didn't stop sucking. Elizabeth pulled her hair harder and pushed her thumb deeper, to the first knuckle. Irene, as always, started choking. No amount of practice and dedication made it easier, her gag reflex was an annoyingly strong. Elizabeth smirked, thinking of Irene's male clients who no doubt imagined using her mouth and expected her to effortlessly deep-throat them. It was a good thing she didn't provide that kind of service, she would be completely useless as a cock-sucker, a complaining, choking and biting one. A single finger was too much for her, but this wasn't really about her comfort. Elizabeth liked watching her struggle. At least this time, Irene's hands remained on her lap and there was no whiny 'I can't;' a result of a lot of hard work.

With regret, Elizabeth slipped out of Irene's mouth and thumbed her quivering bottom lip. There were other ways of pushing Irene to her breaking point.

'Stand up,' Elizabeth said, still holding Irene's hair.

Irene followed the instruction, not as gracefully as she wanted. She scrambled to her feet and stood in front of Elizabeth, trembling in anticipation. Elizabeth rather liked keeping her guessing. She was still wondering if she was going to let her come at all. On one hand, Irene didn't seem to want to try her patience. On the other, the previous time Irene disobeyed her and orgasmed without permission. Maybe starting with a riding crop would help Irene focus.

Irene knew what Elizabeth was considering. She lowered her gaze and bowed her head slightly. Elizabeth loved it when she tried to appear smaller, the bigger the height difference between them, the clearer it was who had the upper hand. Power and control excited Elizabeth, bending Irene to her will had been incredibly thrilling from the start.

'Turn around,' Elizabeth said and let go of her hair. Her authoritative tone alone made Irene weak at the knees.

She watched as Irene did as she was told, slowly. She was facing the bed. There was no mirror, no reflective surface to let her see what was happening behind her back. Elizabeth knew she didn't like the position; she didn't have to like it. All she had to do was to obey her. Elizabeth waited a moment longer, let Irene remember that. Only when Irene relaxed and her breathing evened did Elizabeth touch her again. Her hand glided over Irene's back, up to her neck for a good squeeze and down again, to her bra clasp. She undid it and pushed the straps off Irene's shoulders. It landed on Irene's bare feet and she discreetly kicked it away.

Elizabeth liked how vulnerable Irene looked. Defenceless. She was standing still as Elizabeth closed the distance between them. The front of her blouse touched Irene's back. Elizabeth brushed her hair away from her neck and leant in to kiss Irene's nape. She set her hands on Irene's hips. She trailed her fingers over her stomach, up her chest to cup her breasts. She thumbed the pebbled nipples, tweaked them until Irene gasped. Elizabeth smiled when Irene shifted her stance. Oh, she knew what was coming and also knew there was no way out. Elizabeth again covered her breasts with her fingers and squeezed with enough force to make Irene squirm. Irene leant back, her head against Elizabeth's shoulder. It was an invitation to bite her neck. There was no escape, Irene was caught between a rock and a hard place, panting and fighting to keep her hands down.

Elizabeth released her suddenly. Irene Irene swayed on her feet.

'Come here,' Elizabeth told her. 'Undress me.'

Irene's cheeks were a flushed when she faced Elizabeth again. She set to work without a word. Her hands were trembling; it was taking her a small eternity to unbutton her blouse. Elizabeth didn't rush her. She observed her efforts with mild amusement and thought about what to do next. By the time Irene was back on her knees, pulling Elizabeth's skirt down, she was certain. Irene intentionally pulled here and there, accidentally scraped Elizabeth's thigh with her nails while removing her knickers. Definitely needed a firm hand to guide her and remind her what was expected of her.

Irene finished and was about to get up, Elizabeth stopped her. 'Bring me the crop.'

Irene made the move to stand up. 'Don't be silly, dear,' Elizabeth smiled. 'Crawl.'

On her hands and knees, Irene crossed the room to the bag she had brought. Everything they needed she was supposed to bring. Elizabeth knew she enjoyed the mixture of emotions it caused. It'd be much less humiliating if Elizabeth were in charge of that, much less enjoyable.

Irene crawled back to her, holding the crop between her teeth. Elizabeth took it from her and put it on the bed. Irene was watching her every move, trying to predict what exactly was going to happen.

'Up,' Elizabeth said, 'on the bed.'

There was something insanely arousing about having a woman like Irene on her back, in her white knickers, soaked by now. She was lying very still, looking at Elizabeth with such innocence and trust. Her submission was beautiful. She offered Elizabeth more than anyone else.

Elizabeth started with her feet. She ran her hands upwards at a torturously slow pace. She could feel Irene's shivers as she reached her knees. With a little effort, she nudged them apart and palmed Irene's inner thighs. Pinched her way up to her knickers. Traced the outline of them. Slipped her hand inside, briefly. Before Irene could feel any real pleasure, the hand was gone, along with her lingerie. Elizabeth dropped it to the floor and pulled Irene by her ankles closer to her. Irene bent her knees and her feet were on the edge of the bed. Elizabeth picked up the crop, held the handle firmly. Irene was stock-still, breathing heavily. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and gave her a questioning look.

'Don't be such a stubborn child,' she chided and dragged the leather tongue of the crop across Irene's calves, slid it between them. Irene gulped, shut her eyes and lifted her knees, presenting herself to her Mistress. Elizabeth took a moment to appreciate the view. Irene's soft curves and folds, all on display. Elizabeth used the crop to caress the tops of Irene's thighs, her cheeks and her lips. Delicate touch became gradually more forceful. The first real smack on her buttock took Irene by surprise. Elizabeth loved that first gasp, the beginning of another journey.

Elizabeth quickly developed a pattern. She would bring the crop down heavily on Irene's left cheek, then on her right thigh, the right cheek and the left thigh. Knowing when she'd be struck didn't help Irene. She was shaking, torn between the natural response to the continuous pain and her desire to please her Mistress. The simplest solution would be tying her up to the bed or holding her ankles in a firm grip. Elizabeth didn't mind coiling a length of rope around Irene's limbs, but it was far more exciting to make Irene fight her natural impulses. When she was unbound, Irene had to constantly control herself and couldn't simply hold onto her bindings. Elizabeth expected a show.

She hit hard. Irene held her legs by the backs of her knees. She didn't seem to notice that by doing so, she exposed herself further. Like a blooming flower. She lost her composure, each and every strike caused her to jerk. She vocalized every stinging smack, sounding more and more desperate.

Elizabeth stopped abruptly. She palmed the flushed skin, rubbed all the sore spots. Irene barely controlled herself. She opened her mouth a couple of times, no doubt to ask for handcuffs, at least. Elizabeth would grant her that wish, but Irene reconsidered and stayed quiet. To reward her, Elizabeth took advantage of the easy access and touched her cunt. Irene's pleased sigh sounded sweet; Elizabeth wished she could record their sessions. Irene was always so delightfully responsive after a spanking. Elizabeth's finger wasn't even close to her clit and Irene was moaning with a smile on her face. Elizabeth moved downwards and pushed one, then two fingers inside her. Irene moaned louder as she moved in and out. The lingering pain in her bottom only added to the pleasure. Elizabeth indulged her a moment longer, then returned to cropping.

Irene was warmed up and almost ready to climax. The slaps which rained down on her thighs at first seemed to be doing little to stop her. It'd be nothing new for Irene to come like this, with no other stimulation. But Elizabeth dragged it out this time and the pain eventually became overwhelming. Tears sprang to Irene's eyes and ran down her face. It was a beautiful moment; Elizabeth loved it. When she was feeling generous, she would pause to kiss the tears away. Not this time, though. Irene's quivering lips and the constant stream of tears brought her so much joy.

When she felt ready, she stopped again to finger Irene. She was slick and warm. Elizabeth entered her with three fingers and was tempted to forget about the crop and fist Irene. The noise Irene made almost convinced her to do that. Maybe next time.

She pressed her thumb to Irene's clit and massaged it a little. Irene, without thinking, arched off the bed, hands gripping the bedding and thighs closing around Elizabeth's hand. Once she realised her mistake, she mumbled, 'I'm sorry, Mistress.' She repeated that, louder, when Elizabeth withdrew her hand and straightened her back.

'Don't apologise. Legs up.' Elizabeth adjusted her grip on the handle of the crop. 'Come on.'

Irene waited too long. A couple of pats to her feet got the message across. With exaggerated sobs, she pulled her knees up to endure another round of slaps. This time, Elizabeth kept them moderately light, making only every other smack truly painful. Irene knew this could go on and on and on. Seemingly unaware of what she was doing, she put her hands lower, almost on her buttocks, fingers spread. Elizabeth's rhythm faltered. The sight, apart from being a treat on its own, reminded her of the times when Irene would spread herself for her. She would keep herself open even when it was starting to hurt.

Elizabeth struck her one last time, loving the vocal response to it. Irene wasn't naïve enough to think it was over. She wasn't surprised when the tongue of the crop landed on her cunt.

Elizabeth decided spontaneously to allow Irene a release. 'You can come whenever you feel ready.'

Irene's voice was strained when she thanked her for that. Rhythmical and rather light smacks pushed Irene closer and closer to the edge. Elizabeth focused on the area around her clit. Irene couldn't take it too long. Her body tensed up and she came with a satisfied gasp. Her blissful smile and contented sighs were all a source of joy for Elizabeth, yet she interrupted Irene's contemplation by landing the crop on her heated cheek.

'Thank you, Mistress,' Irene remembered her manners. The black leather tongue was dragged to her lips and she kissed it.

Elizabeth put the crop away, for good this time. Irene, in her post-orgasmic languour, rolled onto her side, relaxed and soft and pliable. Elizabeth knew she could bend her into any position she wanted.

'Lie back, in the middle of the bed.'

Irene sluggishly crawled back and lay on her back. Elizabeth joined her and without preamble, straddled her face. She grabbed Irene's wrists and pinned them to the mattress above her head. It was thrilling for both of them, Irene's joyous surrender and Elizabeth's sense of complete dominance. On occasion, Irene would test the grip, mostly to feed Elizabeth's fantasy of capturing a slightly resisting virgin.

She lowered her hips until she met Irene's lips and looked down at her. 'Be a good girl now.'

Irene didn't waste time. She started with small, open-mouthed kisses everywhere she could reach. The warmth of her lips and the delicate touch were both delightful; unlike Lord Smallwood, Irene knew how important the initial gentleness was. The tip of her tongue slid between Elizabeth's folds and nudged her clit. The sensation was heavenly, for Irene also, she hummed and ran her tongue flatly over the sensitive nub. Elizabeth shivered uncontrollably, squeezing Irene's wrists tighter. She didn't need to instruct Irene, she could give herself over to the pleasurable sensations.

Irene started sucking, with just the tiniest hint of teeth, causing Elizabeth to spasm above her. Irene licked her again, thoroughly, taking her time. Her tongue seemed to be everywhere. Elizabeth moaned when it filled her. She rocked her hips, moaning quietly. Her response only encouraged Irene. It couldn't last long, a great wave of heat and pleasure washed over Elizabeth, she heard her own scream. Irene licked her through her orgasm. The world stopped for a moment.

Elizabeth released Irene and lay on her back, gasping for air. Irene looked at her, turned her face to see her. Elizabeth lifted her hand to cup her cheek. Irene understood the sign and shifted closer to her, half-lying on her. Elizabeth wrapped her arm around her, stroked her back. Irene's lips were on her neck, mouthing softly. When they kissed, it was slow and affectionate. Irene smiled against her lips. 'I've missed you,' she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft regrets spying on Irene Adler.

Mycroft Holmes was in shock. He thought it was so clever of him to track down _Alice Norton_ and have cameras installed in her hotel room. He expected everything, including Sherlock on his knees by the bed. But the person who joined that damned Irene Adler was Liz Smallwood. The same Liz who was so patient with him and maybe a bit flirtatious and whom he trusted wholeheartedly.

The idea of Liz and Irene together wasn't new; everyone who was aware of Irene's profession and her preferences thought that Liz was one of her clients. The image of Liz bound and caned and whimpering was arousing, Mycroft allowed himself to fantasise about it quite often. Somehow no one thought that Irene could be the submissive one.

Mycroft shuddered at the thought of the footage from the hotel. He couldn't look at the screen, couldn't. Seeing Liz as the dominatrix mortified him. She was surprisingly rough for such a petite, mildly-mannered, affable woman. Irene's pained sobs were hard to hear. He was too scared to get aroused. 

He absent-mindedly listened to the sound those two were making. He realised Liz must have trained Irene. Oh! She trained her personal secret spy. Oh, God. It was so obvious now. There wasn't a simpler way of extracting useful information from people.

 

He thought he could pretend it never happened. However, the next time he saw Liz, he could feel his cheeks became crimson red. He avoided her eyes and pretended he was having a coughing fit. Perhaps the better option was a fake heart attack. He could sneak out of the hospital, assume a false identity and never face Liz again.

'Mycroft, are you all right?' She asked, genuinely concerned. That was only because she was unaware of the secret camera. 'Are you choking?' She gave him a few firm pats on his back.

Mycroft nearly jumped up. His whole body jerked away from her hand. He couldn't help it, although his dramatic reaction to her innocent touch could only mean one thing.

She knew. She knew he knew.

Liz didn't move. She didn't grab him by the throat or smack him with her small hands. When she spoke, her voice was calm, but stern. 'Do not tell anyone, Mycroft.'

He found himself nodding. He wouldn't want to cross her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished. God, I'm free.


End file.
